


The Cait Walk

by superfluffycool



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 20:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12261216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superfluffycool/pseuds/superfluffycool
Summary: Sam designed a collection for Barbour. Caitriona used to model for designers. You do the math ;)





	The Cait Walk

Cait was waiting anxiously for Sam. Thirty minutes earlier, she had a bottle of champagne brought up to their room, a celebrity bottle to honor Sam's signature collection with Barbour. There was still some ice in the bucket, but if he was much longer it would be ice soup. Damn, him! He was probably chatting after his last event. He was always chatting.

The door opened and in walked Sam, carrying large shopping bags in each hand. "Mo nighean! Sorry I'm late but I've brought you some presents!"

"Sam!" She went over to kiss him but looked incredulously at the bags.

"It's the collection!."

"I love them," she had done most of the designing, after all, "but how am I going to bring them back home? I'll have to get another suitcase." He furrowed his brow, not having thought of that. She kissed him again. "It's fine, darling. They're beautiful. Maybe I'll have them shipped back." She pulled the wax jacket out of the first bag and stroked the glossy fabric before folding it neatly and returning it.

She moved to showcase the room service cart, "We have champagne!"

He chuckled and removed his shirt, stained with sweat from the long day in the warm weather "Ah, this is perfect." He approached the cart, bare chested and popped off the cork, sucking the foam from the neck before it made a mess on the floor. He handed her the bottle, "Cheers! No need for glasses."

Caitriona grabbed the bottle, "That's not very sophisticated of you..." But she gave him a wicked grin and drank from it. He looked at her contentedly from the bed, propped up by one elbow. She could tell he was tired, but wanted to enjoy this moment with her. Suddenly she had an idea. "Why don't I try these on?" gesturing to the bags. "You can see how they look."

"Hmmm, yes." She handed him the bottle and took the bags into the bathroom with her. Years of modeling taught her how to put on a show, and she could easily modify her presentation to fit a single audience member. She set her phone on the edge of the bed and selected a Franz Ferdinand album--some Scottish tunes for a Scottish brand.

She started with the Fraser shirt. To make the entire presentation longer (and sexier), she decided to model only one item at a time wearing nothing else but panties and heels. In her best strut, she made her way out and caught Sam cradling the champagne bottle and and staring at her contentedly. When she came to a stop and struck a pose he yelled, "Bravo!"

"You don't say 'bravo' until the end!" She turned and made her way back

"But I'm the designer! I can say what I want!"

She heard the last bit from the bathroom. Next was one of the jackets.

"Woohoo!" He was more awake. 

"Gimme that!" She took a deep drink from the bottle of champagne, still cold despite having nested next to a bare-chested Scotsman.

Another jacket. He was sitting up, now and tried to pull her to the bed.

"Not yet! There's still a few more." 

He fell back dramatically, careful not to splash champagne over himself from the open bottle. "It's too many!"

Next she appeared with the picnic rug wrapped elegantly over her torso. Sam ambushed her and threw her on the bed. 

"You're so impatient!" 

"I don't remember the other ones..." He splashed some champagne between her breasts and lapped up the fizzy liquid like a man dying of thirst. Between the dueling sensations of cold (the champagne) and warm (his tongue), she thought the picnic blanket would be lovely for the same activity al fresco. 

He reached into the bucket of melting ice and dragged a handful across the smooth flesh of her breasts, stomach and thighs, delighting in how she shivered. Then they made wild, exuberant love to the music of Franz Ferdinand. 

When they finished, Sam looked at her through hooded eyes and whispered "You're so beautiful" then fell into a deep sleep, his last shred of energy spent pleasuring her. Caitriona rose and turned off the music. She settled back down and pulled the picnic blanket over them both.

The Sam she met four years ago wasn't a designer, but he was one now. How silly! And amazing! She smiled at his sleeping form, admiring the man who made her life such a wonderful adventure. He snuggled her closer. "Cheeseburger."

"What?"

"After a wee nap, I want a cheeseburger." 

She giggled, "I'm sure that can be arranged."

"And then you can show me the rest. Hmmm?"

"Whatever the designer wants." He snuggled her closer and she rested her head onto his shoulder. She wasn't taking a wee nap, but she could think of no place she'd rather be.

The End.


End file.
